Twenty-seven stories adapted for young children from selections of works of classic writers of the ancient world. The stories were chosen by the author for their inspirational value, either 'because they contained fine moral points, or else because they were poetic statements of natural phenomena which might enhance the study of natural science.' Writers represented in the collection include Plato, Homer, Hesiod, Aristophanes, Pliny, and Ovid. Ages 6-9

122 pages

$8.95

THE GIFT OF POESY

[76] THERE was once a learned man named Valmiki who loved
God and his fellow men; and he took up his abode in a
wild and lonely forest that he might learn what was
right by thinking. Just as a traveller climbs a
mountain to get a view of the whole country about him
that he need not go astray, so did Valmiki seek the
temple of nature that by thinking over all he had met
and seen, he should know people better and be able to
serve them more acceptably.

[77] The forest where he dwelt was very beautiful. There
were lofty tamarind and mango trees where birds of a
thousand hues flashed to and fro, and the ground was
strewn with rich blossoms whose incense perfumed the
air.

Here Valmiki lived all alone for many years praising
the great Creator and contemplating how it might best
come about that all men should be taught the universal
brotherhood of all living creatures.

The inhabitants of the woods learned to love the kind
man who lived on roots and berries, and after awhile
they came to him when they were in trouble. Even the
timid gazelles which came in flocks to the
[78] stream to
quench their thirst would look up into his face as much
as to say, "We wish you a good evening, Valmiki."

The glow-worm and the firefly shed their lights around
him in the dark, lest he should tread upon a poisonous
plant or serpent, and the tigers and other beasts crept
out of sight. At the sound of his steps the flowers
opened their corollas and smiled, saying, "Are you ill,
Valmiki? There is a healing power for you in my root."

At length as Valmiki sat at the door of his hut one
evening, there came the messenger of the gods and said
to him, "If men learn to love the great universal
nature, if
[79] they learn to love the good and the true, it
must be through hearing stories of heroic lives; is
this not so, Valmiki?"

"Not so," said Valmiki, "if man learns to be truly
noble, he must have one great hero to follow, one who,
although poor and weak and suffering, has done
generously and well, endured sorrow without bitterness,
controlled his passions, dealt kindly with all living
creatures. One such example man needs—to follow."

"There is such a hero," said the messenger, "but what
poet is there that is great enough to tell his virtues
to the people in a poem which all men shall love to
read,—a
[80] poem so great that men shall believe it and
shall seek to follow the life of the hero?

I charge you, Valmiki," said the messenger of the
gods, "by your love of man, never rest until you have
discovered this poet. " With this the heavenly
messenger returned to his celestial home. Then Valmiki
was sorely troubled and said to himself, "How shall I
find such a poet in this solitary forest? To be clean
and pure is the great wisdom. I will have my body in
the water and keep my soul pure, and perhaps the great
God will give me clear perception that I may find the
gifted poet, worthy to write the song of the hero."

[81] So saying, the hermit prepared to bathe himself in the
river, but as he lingered on the brink, he beheld on
the opposite shore two herons of surpassingly beautiful
plumage. It was the season when the buds are bursting
forth from the trees and all Nature thrills with love.
There is at this time more beauty in the world; all
living things are radiant with ardor; the color of the
trees and flowers are of a richer dye, and the birds
break forth into song.

"We thank Thee, O Supreme Author of life!" exclaimed
these herons of marvelous plumage, "for the gift of
lustrous waters, for the wings that give us empire over
the
[82] realms of air, and above all for the love which we
find in each other."

But while these harmless birds expressed joyously their
thanksgiving, the arrow of some pitiless hissed through
the startled air, and, piercing the poor breast of one
of the winged lovers, destroyed the life that had just
reached its happiest moment. Then the mournful shrieks
of the bereaved heron, which beheld his innocent mate
stretched there dabbled in blood, saddened the shores
of the lake and saddened, too, the kind heart of the
hermit. "O cruel hunter," he cried, "mayst thou attain
no glory in the eternal revolution of years, since thou
hast
[83] not feared to strike this heron in its supreme
happiness."

As the bubbling springs gush from the soil, so leapt
the words from his heart. And as the sound of flowing
waters mellows itself into harmony, so did his grief
for the desolate bird sing itself into measure, swaying
his thoughts to and fro with a musical, dreamy
movement, as the breeze blows forward and back the
boughs of the sad weeping-willow.

The rhythm of his lamentations rang in his ears while
he bathed in the limpid waters, and even when he had
left the crystal lake the enchanting measure still
haunted him. Against his will he kept
[84] repeating it
over and over, until sorely puzzled and distressed, he
fancied that some charm had bewitched him.

That day the greatest of the gods came to visit the
meek hermit. Valmiki reverently bowed himself to the
earth, his hands clasped above his head as befitting
the presence of one worthy of honor, and he begged the
most illustrious of the gods to inform him of his
pleasure.

Then Brahma, the god, said: "The fame of your wisdom
and holiness had reached me, O Hermit! I long to hear
you speak of virtue and knowledge, and of the grave
contemplations that have absorbed
[85] your mind while you
have lived in this forest." Valmiki tried to tell his
illustrious guest of the way to encourage man to become
noble and generous and pure. But his tongue could only
repeat the musical words in which he deplored the death
of the heron.

Valmiki was abashed and confused and he trembled before
the most ancient of the gods, fearing that Brahma would
think that he meant to mock him. But the eternal
Brahma smiled and said, "Happy art thou, Valmiki, who
has found favor in the sight of the ardent goddess of
[86] eloquence! The divine quality of pity has drawn to thee
the kiss of the goddess, Harmony. Up then, oh man, who
hath tasted an immortalís love, and speak forth the
divine breath which inspires thee! Sing to the
listening ages the wondrous story of the great hero
whose beauty shall not fade till the stars grow dim in
the sky."

Thus did Valmiki receive the divine gift of poesy in
exchange for tears of pity, because there dwelt in his
heart the feeling of universal brotherhood.

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